


Clarke Hates Hypotheticals

by TheNightbloodSolution



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically Canon but if Murphy's Law had never happened, Delinquents, F/M, Fluff, Season/Series 01, it's really just fluff and stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-18 01:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16107827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightbloodSolution/pseuds/TheNightbloodSolution
Summary: Gathered around the campfire, life isn't quite as bad as Bellamy thought it'd be on the ground. The meat is fresh, the fire is warm, and the moonshine is... bearable.Jasper likes to play games, Octavia likes to indulge him, and Bellamy, to his own surprise, actually likes hanging out with the delinquents.Or the one where the Delinquents play Would You Rather and Clarke is woefully bad at it.





	Clarke Hates Hypotheticals

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I had this idea and put off writing the end of my other fic to get this on paper. Or in Word. Whatever. It's a Delinquent fic, set around 1x05 or 1x06, but as if 1x04 had never happened, because I wanted Wells and Murphy both there. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Sitting around the campfire, a cup of moonshine in his hand, Bellamy had to admit he didn’t _hate_ being stuck on the ground with a bunch of teenagers. He felt out of place a good deal, like he was invading something he didn’t earn, but then he’d remember that he shot the chancellor and he was just as much a delinquent as the rest of them. (Ever since Raven came down, he could think about the elder Jaha without feeling quite as guilty. At least he was alive.)

The game of “Never Have I Ever” had exhausted itself when Miller launched into a story about how he’d gotten away with hooking up with his boyfriend in the guard’s dressing room, right under his father’s nose. Everyone was enraptured by the tale, all eyes on Miller as he explained almost getting caught and running back to farm station with Bryan.

Harper leans lazily against Jasper’s shoulder, Miller nurses his cup of moonshine right next to Bellamy, and Monty is on Miller’s other side, fiddling with a piece of tech he’d gotten from a dismantled bracelet. Murphy sits as far away as he can from the others while still being present in the conversation. Octavia is sitting next to Raven on the ground, cross-legged and closer to the fire than the rest of them, her eyes entranced by the flames.

Everyone’s long forgotten the number of fingers they had up when Miller started his tale, so Harper finally asks, “What should we play next?”

“Oooh!” Jasper shouts, too loudly. “How about Would You Rather?”

A murmur of assent shuffles around the group.

“I think we should invite Clarke,” Monty offers, turning his head to look toward the blonde. She’s off sitting by herself, still chewing on her boar (caught fresh by Bellamy), always the last to eat. She likes to make sure all the delinquents have had their share before she eats her own.

A few groans pass around the circle at Monty’s statement.

Bellamy’s is the most prominent, he doesn’t want to deal with Clarke any more than he already has to. She’s already taken over half his camp, he really doesn’t need to spend more of his free time with the princess.

Raven doesn’t particularly want Clarke to join either. She doesn’t like the way Finn looks at Clarke, there’s something off about it. She doesn’t like the way Clarke looks at her, either. She always looks… guilty. Raven likes Abby, but she isn’t sure she trusts her daughter.

The final groan is Jasper’s; he’s afraid Clarke with confiscate their moonshine if she realizes they aren’t using it for medicinal purposes.

But all of them around the circle take one look at Monty’s puppy dog eyes that scream, _“pleeease!”_ and decide to indulge him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

They all look over to where the prince of the Ark sits by himself, a few feet from their circle.

“Aren’t you supposed to be her friend, Jaha?” Bellamy drawls.

“I am.” Wells grits out. The tension between them certainly hasn’t dissolved since he found out Bellamy shot his father. “And you shouldn’t invite Clarke to play. Clarke hates hypotheticals.”

Raven snorts. “She hates… _hypotheticals_?”

Wells’ eyebrows furrow. “Well, it’s not like she hates them, it’s just that she doesn’t understand them. If you give her a Would You Rather, she’s just going to ask why she’d ever be in that situation.”

“I think we’ll take our chances,” Even Monty rolls his eyes as he gets up to go fetch Clarke.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Wells mutters before turning back to the chess board his sketched into the dirt with a stick.

Clarke eyes the moonshine warily when she sits down next to Monty, but bites her tongue, which is dying to tell them they need to preserve it for injuries. She’s been invited, she’s being included, and she’s going to take advantage of it.

“Okay, everyone’s here! Let’s play.” Octavia announces, but Clarke’s eyes flick over to Wells. He’s still sketching in the dirt, and her heart tugs involuntarily. They didn’t invite him. The urge to include dies fast, just as fast as she remembers that he turned in her father.

“Why don’t you start, Jasper?” Octavia offers.

Clarke is struck by the fact that she doesn’t even know what they’re playing. She hopes it’s a drinking game because if they’re going to be wasting moonshine, she may as well prove that she can drink them under the table.

“Okay then, Octavia-” He tosses it right back to her, and she grins. “Would you rather be speared by grounders,” he winks, “or chased by a swarm of radioactive bees?”

“Grounders, easy,” She shrugs. “At least I know I can survive that. I’ll die if all the bees get me.”

“Raven,” Octavia begins. “Would you rather be handcuffed to Bellamy for a day or Jasper for a day?”

“Finn,” Raven responds without missing a beat.

“Not an option.”

Raven rolls her eyes, then responds, “Fine. Jasper.” Jasper whoops in response and Harper elbows him in the stomach.

“Bellamy,” Raven grins conspiratorially, “Would you rather see Octavia have a teen pregnancy or start dating a grounder?”

Octavia’s eyes bulge almost as much Bellamy’s. “I would _not_ get pregnant!” Octavia reaches over and smacks Raven’s arm.

“But you’d date a grounder?”

“I don’t know, is he hot?”

Bellamy’s gruff voice chokes out, “You are _not_ dating any grounders.”

Octavia cocks an eyebrow. “Oh? So, you’d rather I be pregnant?”

Bellamy looks like he’s about to be sick, but mutters, “Date a grounder.”

The laughter that rises around the circle overtakes them for a minute, but eventually Bellamy gets to ask his question. “Princess,” he starts, “Would you rather live in a castle on the ground or a castle in the clouds? Like where the gods live,” he clarifies.

Clarke’s face scrunches. “That doesn’t make any sense. There aren’t any castles on the ground, they all got destroyed with the bombs. And castles in the sky don’t even exist.”

Half the delinquents around the campfire bite back a laugh, the other half is just in disbelief that Wells was right. Wells, eavesdropping still, smirks at the ground.

“And speared by grounders or radioactive bees makes sense?” Harper asks.

“Well, one of those things has actually happened, it’s plausible.” Clarke argues, avoiding answering her simple question.

“Fine! We’ll give you something plausible.” Clarke is happy for a moment, but then she’s Jasper’s grin, a little too devious. “Would you rather kiss Finn or Bellamy?”

“ _What_?” Clarke screeches, and her eyes involuntarily flick to Raven, then to Bellamy.

“Well, both things could happen? I mean, technically, right?” Jasper responds innocently, crossing his arms.

Raven’s right there, looking at Clarke with a raised eyebrow, daring her to pick Finn, and Clarke thinks she might get punched if she does. And it’s not like she even _wants_ to pick Finn, not anymore, not knowing he’s a cheating, lying-

Bellamy cuts off her thoughts. “Well, who’s it gonna be, princess?” His voice is low and pointedly sultry and infuriating.

Clarke huffs a sigh and in her most annoyed tone announces, “Bellamy.”

Whoops and cat calls take over the campfire circle, and Jasper starts the chant, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Clarke stomps away and they call after her as she leaves. She vaguely hears Monty berate Jasper for driving her away, and Jasper claiming it was all in good fun.

Never, in a million years, would she kiss either of those boys. What a stupid question.

* * *

 

Right before she climbs into her tent, a hand catches Clarke’s upper arm. Her eyes trail up the body to meet Bellamy’s.

“So, how ‘bout that kiss, princess?” He teases, face a little too close to hers.

She yanks her arm away. “Never gonna happen.”

She fumes in her tent as she hears him walk away, laughing.

Her fingers trail lightly against her tingling arm.

_Never in a million years._


End file.
